


Beautiful Music Together

by Wallwalker



Category: Bastion
Genre: Evacuation, Gen, Music, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 17:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wallwalker/pseuds/Wallwalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their music is the thing that starts to close the rifts, and heal the wounds. It only makes sense, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Music Together

While the Bastion flew, when the three of them had a chance to rest, Zia would sit by the fire with Zulf and the Kid, and play every song that she knew, over and over again. 

The Kid would listen intently, and with a wide smile, for every song she played, even the sad ones. Sometimes she would see his lips moving, and she would ask if he wanted to sing for a while; he would blink, embarrassed, and reply that he didn't really know _how_ to sing. The only thing he'd ever played that was close to musical were drums. But that was _something,_ she would reply, and she would be happy if he would accompany her someday, and he would never quite seem to know what to say to that.

Zulf would sit back and listen as well; his smile wasn't nearly so wide, but it was there, and that was something too. He said that the songs reminded of the good memories of home, even though none of the songs were in the Ura tongue. There were a few, Zulf had said, that had originally been songs of the Ura, but they had been translated, and the meanings were so far removed from their original intents that it was impossible to call them the same songs. Zia would always look a bit forlorn, at that.

Then came the day when the Kid arrived at the campfire to see that Zia and Zulf were already there. Zulf, wearing the closest thing the Kid had ever seen to a smile on his face, was singing in the Ura tongue, his tenor voice wavering slightly over the notes; Zia would listen, then play a chord or two in tune with Zulf's voice. At first he didn't feel comfortable joining in; he sat, just beyond the circle of firelight, and listened to them as they sang, wondering what it was they were saying.

This continued for a while, and finally the Kid decided to join in. One day, when he wa's feeling bold, he approached the two with some makeshift percussion - a dried-up zulwood gourd that was too small to use as a target, and a drum made of wood and cured stretched rattle-tail hide from the mines. And he held them out like a peace offering, even though he knew there was no need, and he asked them both if they still wanted a bit of percussion.

And they accepted him, of course. At first it was a little awkward - Kid only knew how to bang the drums hard, and it overwhelmed the sort of music that Zia and Zulf tried to make. Fortunately Zia had a gentle touch, and taught him how to make the right kind of music, how to strike the hide gently with his fingers where it would make an echo, how to shake the gourd gently and yet firmly enough to make the right kind of sound. And soon enough the three of them were making the beautiful music together.

When they were tired - especially Zia, because she loved her harp but plucking the strings were hard on her fingers - they would rest together. Sometimes they would rest in silence, with Zulf lost in his own thoughts, the Kid staring up at the stars, and Zia beaming with happiness. Other times, when Zulf was in a talking mood, he'd explain some of the songs he'd been singing - no old war songs, like the one Zia had learned and somehow made beautiful. They were all the kind of song you'd hear from day to day. Some of them were prayers to the Gods for favors, or as thanks for their happiness. Some of them were just songs sung because someone had once been happy, and had wanted to tell the world.

None of Zulf's songs were sad songs anymore. He'd sang a sad song before - he'd sang it quietly as the Kid nursed him back to health, and it had been all that he could do not to hush the poor man up, because he was a soldier and he had heard that song far too many times. How could he, he'd reasoned, when Zulf had been through so much? But now, well, there were no more sad songs in him. They could still see his sadness, the distance in his eyes, the way he grimaced sometimes as if his heart was literally broken and causing him pain. But it was easier, now, at least - the distance was less, and at least when they made their music together he was _with_ them, body and soul. And all Zia and the Kid could do was show him how happy they were when he was there, and try to soothe the pain as best they could, and give him time to heal.

Rucks had never said it, but they were starting to figure out the _real_ purpose of the Bastion. One way or the other, it had been meant to give hope to the ones who had survived. And for the moment, at least, it was doing a very fine job, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> More people should play this game.


End file.
